


Today

by MissMadHatter4life



Category: Fairly OddParents, Hey Arnold!
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Crossover, M/M, Oral, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Twinks, Weight Gain, chubby timmy, problematic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23723485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMadHatter4life/pseuds/MissMadHatter4life
Summary: Timmy is pretty sure that Arnold isn't interested in fat twinks like him, but there's only one way to know for sure.
Relationships: Timmy/Arnold
Kudos: 10





	Today

**Author's Note:**

> All characters are depicted at 21+.

I was inspired to write this based off the awesome redraws/redesigns of twink!Timmy and stoner!Arnold done by the wonderful [AiPeCo18](https://twitter.com/_AiPeCo18_). Check out Ai's lovely kink art and angst comics. They draw top quality problematic goodness.

All characters are depicted at 21+.

~~

The subway was crowded with slimy bodies and angry outbursts, a gross movable cesspool that Timmy avoided at all costs. He usually got a ride from Bart or AJ or someone (anyone) who could be sucked or paid into driving him all the way out there; and who would hang out down in the car while he visited his 'friend'. But, today, Bart had a date with that loser Milhouse and Wally was getting railed by Nigel and everyone else had a lame ass excuse. Timmy almost went so far as to prod his fish tank and whine at Cosmo and Wanda, but they had a hard time looking at him these days, and he didn't want a lecture, so he'd just gotten dressed in some semi clean clothes and took the bus to the station and hopped on the filthy subway train.  
  
It smelled like shit and the people weren't any better to look at either. He had to stand, because no one gave up their seat to fat twinks. He hung on to one of the poles, having half a mind to press it's cold metal between his ass cheeks, because, hell, everyone was staring anyways- might as well give them a show, right? But, he resisted the urge; being gutted on a station platform by a super twisted 'admirer' was not how he wanted to die.   
  
He steeled his chubby face with a stony expression. Those bitchy girls and snotty business men and bitter grannies could give him nasty looks all they wanted. He was used to it; he thrived on it, at this point. He let them look as he pulled out his Switch and started to play, leaving the sound on loud as he plowed his way through a rather graphic hentai game; grinning and snickering at each moan and wet slapping sound. By the time he arrived, he was sure the whole train car was staring, and he almost waved goodbye, but again, he resisted the urge, because, again, he didn't want to get murdered by someone overzealous. 

Instead, Timmy walked through the anonymous platform station and up onto the grimy street. The scent of stale piss was replaced with smog and rotting trash. He couldn't understand why anyone would live in such a gross pit stain of a place, when the burbs were a train ride away. If his dealer didn't live there, Timmy would never have bothered. But, his dealer did, and his dealer had the best weed in the whole state, all locally grown high grade purple buds with beautiful crystals. Oh, yeah, it was the shit, and so Timmy walked lazily through the shitty city blocks to the boarding house. Cat calls bounced off his fat ass; white noise to his stroll. 

He walked up the stoop to the door and he rang the bell a couple of times. Inside, cats and dogs and a pig all squealed loudly that there was a visitor, but after a few painstaking moments, no one had come to answer the door. Timmy checked the handle and was only mildly surprised to find it was unlocked. Only at this place, he thought, as he opened the door and sidestepped the mass of animals that made a break for freedom.   
  
The boarding house looked like a lovely little home, with a big kitchen off to the side and stairs to the upper floors. Timmy had been inside this place numerous times, at least twice a month for the past year even, but he'd never really seen much outside this foyer, the stairs, and down the hallway. He called out that he was there; he always said something because the old lady in the kitchen had once come at him with what he believed to be a loaded shotgun. As usual, the old lady crooned out a nonsensical song lyric or two, but he didn't actually see her. He gave an awkward thumbs up to the kitchen archway as he went up the stairs.   
  
There were a lot of closed doors today. Several times, Timmy had had to duck and weave around an angry middle aged couple throwing dishes back and forth, or talk his way around a well meaning Chinese man who took too much interest in his clothing or lack thereof. But, today, the hall was quiet. A hushed fight drifted through the walls, someone had their television on full blast on the sports channel, and everything smelled like marijuana. He walked to the end of the hall, where there was a string to pull, to pull down the stairs to the attic, to Arnold's room. 

Arnold's room was unlike anything else Timmy had ever seen, and he had seen the Fairy World. It was large and isolated on it's own floor of the building, with glass window skylights as the roof, a perfect view of the stars and skyscrapers overhead. There was even a personal access to the rooftop- which of course, was where a makeshift greenhouse squatted by a slew of pigeon coops, stuffed full of those lovely extra sexy high grade pot plants. The roof access was probably Timmy's favorite part of the room, but he had to admit, he was pretty jealous of the rest. Big bed, red couch, desk with high tech gaming computer set-ups (yes, plural), and a wall sized television system with every gaming platform known to man. It made Timmy's gamer body tremble. He wanted to steal every screen and controller and collector's edition thing in the overstuffed gaming station. It was all glorious. 

Timmy's eye locked on the brand new collector's edition bright orange controller proudly displayed on the desk, amongst bongs and papers. He went right over to it and fingered the box, rubbing it and teasing it and practically licking it. He wanted to rip the box open and shove that gorgeous fucking thing into his ass and fuck himself raw with it, he loved it so much. He'd give his left nut to own it, but it wasn't his, and he knew Arnold would never part with it, so Timmy was left violating it's shiny box, groaning as his chubby fingers slid over the plastic. 

As usual, Arnold idly mumbled 'hey' as he continued to roll a thick blunt, sitting on the couch in the corner of his room. He was dressed in an unbuttoned plaid shirt and snug blue boxers, which perfectly encased his large cock. He was clearly stoned out of his mind, with red rimmed eyes in a glazed over expression and a stupid smile on his handsome face. His blond hair was messy and greasy, his small blue hat laying askew on his part.   
  
"I got your shit," Arnold said, motioning to a large baggie on the desk in front of Timmy, " I can weigh it out for you. . ."

Timmy begrudgingly lifted his fingers off the shiny controller's box and touched the baggie of weed instead. It looked like the right amount. He'd been getting half a pound for a year now, and he was pretty good at eyeballing it. Besides, Arnold was about as honest as drug dealers came; he wasn't the type to short change his usual customers. 

"Nah," Timmy said as he placed his backpack on the table. He fished out the money and handed the stack of hundreds over. 

Arnold showed his own trust in Timmy; he didn't bother counting it; he just tossed the money to the side and finished rolling the blunt. Arnold felt along the couch cushions, eventually unearthing a pink lighter. He held out the blunt to Timmy and Timmy wasn't the type to refuse. He greedily took the blunt and sat down beside Arnold. He took the first hit of glorious greens and relished the divine taste of truly orgasmic high high high grade goodness. He took a huge riff for his second puff, held it in, and handed the blunt to Arnold.

They sat thigh to thigh on the red couch, puff puff passing the blunt back and forth until the room was extra smokey and the roach was spent down to the last dregs. Arnold wasn't much of a talker. He just exhaled clouds overhead and watched the smoke drift upwards. Timmy mumbled a couple of times about games, complimented the new controller, and then stayed quiet; too one-sided a conversation, with one word answers and that vacant stoner stare as Arnold misheard most of what was said. By the time the blunt was gone and they were baked, Timmy wanted to say something, anything, to start up a real talk, his eyes on the yummy bulge between Arnold's slender legs. 

Timmy couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such a large cock. He hated to say it, but it was a preoccupation whenever he came by Arnold's. He'd tried multiple times to pay for his weed with favors, but Arnold had always laughed and told him not to worry about it; he would spot him this time, never seeming to realize that Timmy just wanted an excuse to suck his dick. Timmy wasn't shy, though. He'd slipped his hand between Arnold's legs and tested the waters. While Arnold hadn't been disgusted, he had lifted Timmy's fingers off his cock and told him it wasn't necessary for him to do such things. Timmy had even told him he wanted to taste his big sausage, but Arnold had taken it as a joke, and laughed. It was infuriating, to say the least, that whenever Timmy tried to instigate sexy times, Arnold thought he was joking.   
  
It was the same routine each time Timmy came by. Arnold rolled them blunts, they smoked up a storm, and then Arnold daydreamed while Timmy tried to touch him, lick him, even just see that monster cock. And each time, Arnold laughed and pushed him away. Timmy was starting to get the impression that Arnold wasn't into guys, or at least not into chubby guys in pink stockings and hoodies. 

But, today, today, dammit, they were sitting thigh to fucking thigh, and Arnold was in his fucking boxers, and Timmy was going to get an answer one way or the other. He got high and let the smoke ease his worries about possibly fucking up his best weed connection for some dick. It wasn't just any dick, he told himself, it was a giant dick.

Timmy shifted, so that his fat thigh squished more against Arnold's leg, and he leaned his weight against Arnold's side. Timmy flexed his fingers, before he reached between Arnold's legs. He lightly brushed his fingertips over the bulge straining Arnold's boxers, and Timmy's heart nearly burst with perverted ecstasy when he felt that firm girth- warm and solid and huge in his hand, easily filling his palm. Timmy stroked up and down the flaccid cock, it already bigger than what he usually handled. His touch was rougher than he meant it to be, since the cock was just so impressive, and he wanted to rip those boxers off and touch it raw. But, he only stroked a few times, before he looked up to see if Arnold had even noticed. 

Arnold looked down at Timmy's hand gripped around his cock. His expression was completely neutral. Timmy slowly stopped stroking. 

"Uh. . . are you straight?" Timmy asked. 

"No." 

Timmy drummed his fingers over Arnold's cock, and asked, "Do ya want me to stop?"

"You don't have to do this," Arnold said, sternly. It was the first time he didn't snicker or laugh when he said it; the first time that he didn't push Timmy's hand away. He remained stony and still, his eyes on Timmy's fingers, and not on Timmy's flushed face.

Timmy rolled his eyes and said, "Dude, I wanna do this." 

"You do?" 

"Duh. I've been tryin' to get your pants off forever." 

Arnold shrugged one shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck. He couldn't take his eyes off Timmy's chubby fingers on his cock. Still, he swallowed hard and gritted his teeth, his cock only slightly twitching and growing a touch hard. Timmy's grip tightened instinctively and Arnold unwillingly moaned. 

"But, you don't have to," Arnold repeated, "You don't have to, uh, give me favors or anything. Y'know, because I'm your dealer, and whatever."

"Huh?"

"You're not obligated to, just because you're dressed like that," Arnold said, "I don't think you're gonna, like, fuck me. I don't expect it or anything."

Timmy gave him an exasperated stare, while Arnold ground his teeth together in a desperate effort not to immediately get hard and come, with those chubby fingers locked around his cock. 

"Dude, I'm not a hooker," Timmy joked, laughing under his breath, "I only have sex with guys I like. And I like you and I wanna have sex. You okay that?"

Arnold swallowed and nodded, about all he could manage. Timmy stroked up and down Arnold's cock, rubbing the fabric of his boxers over the sensitive tip. Arnold let out a low moan, his eyes rolling slightly back in his head, his cock showing it's true size as he hardened to a monstrous length and thick girth; an amazingly massive cock indeed. Timmy pulled it from the damp boxers and was delighted to see the large head already dripping with precum. Arnold's cock was huge and stinky, with an unwashed dirtiness that waifed off it like an alluring aroma for sluts.   
  
"How dirty!" Timmy exclaimed playfully. 

"Sorry, I-" Arnold's soft spoken apology was cut off by Timmy opening up his mouth wide and extending his wet, trembling tongue. 

Arnold panted hotly overhead, his hands gripped on the cushions, as he watched Timmy lick the head of his dirty cock, first just the tip of his tongue, then the whole length of his pretty pink tongue, and then, and then, he took the head of Arnold's cock into his wet, warm, hungry mouth and he sucked nice and long, drinking down all that precum. Arnold felt his heart jolt as he watched Timmy's head bob up and down shallowly, only sucking on the head of his cock, teasingly slow. Arnold groaned and moaned, the intense heat of that mouth almost too much. 

Timmy swirled his tongue around the tip of Arnold's cock, beading the precum on his tongue, and swallowing slowly. This dick was so huge it filled up his mouth and he ached to take it down to the base, but he resisted. Instead, he sucked down one side, to Arnold's matted pubic hair, and eased his hands over Arnold's thighs. He spread Arnold's legs more as he slurped his way up the other side of that massive cock. More precum squirted out and Arnold trembled, his face a bright red and his body flushed with growing warmth. His skin was turning pink and Timmy giggled, before he licked the tip of Arnold's cock. He sucked on the head for another painstaking moment, swishing it from side to side, so his cheeks swelled dramatically, posing so Arnold got a good look at his chubby face full of his cock and cum. 

And then, without warning, Timmy took Arnold's cock all the way inside his mouth, to the back of his throat, and he sucked, his mouth encasing Arnold in a wet crushing heat. Arnold let out a small shout and slammed his hand down on the back of Timmy's head, as he came, a deliciously huge load of thick bitter cum that gushed into the back of Timmy's throat and filled up his mouth and even squirted out his lips as he sucked and swallowed and sucked and swallowed, milking that wonderful cock for every creamy drop. 

Timmy eased back, slurping up Arnold's cock loudly, before he popped his mouth off the weeping tip. Arnold kept his hand planted on the back of Timmy's head until Timmy was sitting up; then his hand slid down Timmy's plump cheek. Arnold fingered Timmy's lips before Timmy opened his mouth wide, to show off the cum stained inside, and Arnold rubbed his thumb over Timmy's buck teeth, over his canines, over his twitching tongue. 

"Sorry, that was fast," Arnold mumbled.

"It's cool, dude," Timmy said, shrugging his shoulders, "Tasted great."

"You're not disappointed?"   
  
"That you're a quick shot? Yeah, but, hey, man, what ya gonna do?" 

Arnold laughed, leaning his head back against the back of his couch, before he said, "A quick shot? What a mean thing to say."

"Hey, dude, you're the one who came in five seconds," Timmy reminded him, looking over the embarrassingly large cock already spent and half masted. Arnold groaned at the barb, covering his face with one hand. 

Timmy sat beside him, his belly filled with warm cum, and his mouth sticky, while Arnold stewed in the mild shame of being such a wildly quick shot. For a few minutes, Timmy felt pleased with himself for having conquered Arnold's massive cock so easily- to make that easy-going man squeal like a pig with one big swallow. Then, as they sat there, the disappointment Arnold had mentioned crept in. Such a big dick and he didn't even get to give it a proper blowjob. Looking over at the still unsheathed weapon, Timmy felt his insides groan with annoyance- he hadn't even considered riding that dick since it had been such a chore trying to get it in his mouth. But, now, he looked at it, and he wanted it's girth slammed up inside his ass, punishing his body the way only a massive cock could. 

Sighing, Timmy crossed his legs at the knee, and looked away from Arnold's exposed cock. Arnold peaked between his fingers at the annoyance on Timmy's chubby face. Carefully, Arnold raised one hand and rested it on Timmy's thigh, which made Timmy jolt slightly. Arnold felt over the stretched out top of Timmy's stockings, then over the tight shorts which pinched in a bit, before he rubbed his fingers over the uber soft strip of bare skin between the shorts and stockings. Arnold poked the weight there, before he slipped his fingers beneath the edge of the shorts and felt the warmth trapped there. 

"You've gained weight," Arnold said, his voice soft and gentle. 

Timmy flared, his eyes narrowed and his body tensed. He had gained some weight these last few months, getting what Wally haughtily called a 'gamer gut' and some nice thunder thighs, but he hadn't expected Arnold, of all people, to mention it. The only people who brought it up were Wally and Bart, and they only teased him during their frantic fucking because they were assholes. But, Arnold wasn't, and Timmy wasn't prepared to hear that. 

He blushed deeply and started to snap something smart mouthed about it, when Arnold ran his hand from Timmy's thigh over to Timmy's gut. Arnold cautiously ran his palm over the hoodie, bunching it's fabric across the weight there. Timmy went stiff as Arnold pushed the hoodie up, exposing Timmy's snug tank top underneath. 

Arnold pressed his face suddenly against Timmy's neck, Arnold's warm mouth close to his collarbone. Everything he said, he said with a hungry pant, "All your clothes are getting tighter. I love these curves. You look so soft and yummy."

Arnold pressed his hand down into the curve to Timmy's belly, squishing it into the soft fat. Timmy squirmed as Arnold prodded his spare tire, Arnold panting like a dog in heat against his throat. Then, Arnold smoothed his hand up the curve of Timmy's waist to cup over his small breast. Timmy shuddered and swallowed hard, his body hot and tingling, as Arnold squeezed. 

"You've got such nice tits now, Turner."

Arnold lustfully groped Timmy's chest with both hands, pulling them in opposite directions and pushing them together to create a small line of cleavage, as Timmy panted against him. Without asking, Arnold jerked Timmy's hoodie up and off him and he threw it to the ground at their feet, before he yanked Timmy against him. Arnold buried his face in Timmy's shoulder and neck, and groped at Timmy's small breasts again, this time more feverishly, without the hoodie obstructing his hands. Timmy panted wetly, held in his arms as his tits were roughly fondled and groped and gripped and pulled and twisted, Arnold's touch so unlike his usual laid back nature. 

Timmy moaned, his head tilted back, and his hands trembling on the cushions, as Arnold fingered his fully erect nipples. Arnold sucked on Timmy's bare shoulder and pinched his nipples hard enough to get a little squeal, before he flicked his middle fingers over the perky things. Timmy jolted and squealed again, such a slutty little sound that made both of them blush deeper.   
  
Arnold kept one hand planted on Timmy's tit, groping absentmindedly. He slid the other hand back over the curve to Timmy's gut, stopping to squeeze the fat there, lifting Timmy's belly up a little to feel the weight. Arnold trembled and panted harder, saliva dripping down Timmy's neck and dampening his tank top, before Arnold quickly lifted up Timmy's snug tank. He looked down at the exposed pale skin, a small gut poking out with light stretch marks on the sides. So soft and squishy, moving easily as Arnold groped Timmy's belly the same way he groped his breast. But, instead of keeping his hand there, Arnold groped once, twice, felt along the width of Timmy's waist, and then patted the top of his gut a few times.

"Sorry," Arnold mumbled into Timmy's ear as Timmy panted and shifted against him. Arnold sloppily kissed Timmy's neck, repeating, "Sorry. Sorry. I know, I'm sorry. Just another minute, please."

Timmy panted and squeezed his eyes shut as Arnold traced his fingers over his belly. His head was foggy with pleasure from the way Arnold was pressed against him, a hot man leaning over him, and from the delirious pulling at his nipple. But, he squirmed as his gut was fondled, unsure what to feel except embarrassed. He hadn't put on that much weight, he didn't think, but now he wasn't sure. Arnold touched every inch, repeatedly pinching and squishing the new pounds like there was so much to touch. The way Arnold touched him was intoxicating, though; so lustful and needy.

"So soft," Arnold moaned. 

He pushed his hand down the front of Timmy's belly, fingering his navel for a split second, before he ran his fingers over the tight hemline of Timmy's booty shorts. Arnold just fucking loved those tiny shorts. 

They had barely covered anything the first time Timmy climbed up the ladder to Arnold's room all those months ago. Today, they were tight and indented in the soft soft soft fat of Timmy's gut, with his big ass cheeks poking out on either side, hardly more than panties at this point. Arnold had always thought the chubby twink was easy on the eyes, with those precious fucking buck teeth and plump legs encased in snug stockings, but over the past few months, Timmy had grown fatter and grown irresistible. Arnold couldn't explain why he liked it, but dammit, he did. He loved watching Timmy get plump and round and soft, and he loved watching those shorts shrink. 

Now Arnold got the sublime pleasure of tugging those tight shorts down Timmy's soft hips, revealing the pale perfection of his wider hips and his fat thighs. Arnold snapped the waistband into Timmy's thigh, making Timmy quiver and laugh at the same time. 

Like a slut, Timmy wasn't wearing any actual panties, and with his shorts slung around his thighs, his cock was completely exposed. It leaked, twitching and aching, as Arnold groped his thighs and just barely brushed his knuckles against the shaft. Timmy let out a loud throaty moan. 

"Stand up, please," Arnold gasped, his mouth against Timmy's ear, his hands locked on his tit and thigh, unwilling to let go, even as he begged, "Please."

Panting wetly, head blurry from desire, Timmy eased himself up. Arnold's hand dragged down his breast and side, until both his hands were firmly clasped on Timmy's fat ass, bare and naked. Arnold groaned in pathetic pleasure, as he cupped that plump round ass, Timmy's ass so fat it filled his palms and spilled over. Timmy stood with his hands planted on his knees, his mouth gaping and dripping saliva on the floor, precum leaking out of his cock, and his every inch throbbing with aching joy as Arnold squished his ass and spread his cheeks and looked at his asshole, wet with sweat and nicely puckered. 

Arnold lightly licked over Timmy's hole, his tongue wet and hot and gentle. Timmy moaned and his hole twitched, all the permission Arnold needed to press his tongue harder and rougher against it. He pushed the tip of his tongue inside and Timmy squealed, that adorable little slutty sound again. Arnold felt explosions in the back of his skull when he heard it, and he started to slurp at Timmy's fat ass hungrily, listening and loving what he heard. 

Gasping and panting, Timmy stood with his hands on his knees, saliva pooling on the floor in front of him. He felt Arnold's hot tongue inside him, pressing along the walls and swirling around, the pressure and heat overwhelming. Timmy's cock leaked and his knees shook, his moaning loud and whiny, punctured with sharp little gasps and noises. The more noise he made, the more Arnold slurped and licked, so he kept his mouth wide open, and let out whatever sound he could. 

As Timmy panted, Arnold pulled his tongue out and away from his wet hole. Instead, as quickly as he could, he reached across the couch to the wall next to it. He opened up one of the built in cubby holes and fished around until he found a bottle. Arnold snatched up the lube and squeezed a glob on it on his trembling fingers, as Timmy groaned wetly.   
  
Saliva dripped out of Timmy's mouth, sweat dripped down his backside; his legs shook and jiggled, barely standing. Arnold rubbed his lubed fingers around the edge of Timmy's hole, and Timmy excitedly braced himself. Someone, maybe even both, mumbled to three, before Arnold thrust two fingers inside. Timmy jerked, his back arching and every inch of him tensing with a shock of pleasure, as Arnold's fingers thrust deep inside his tight hole. Arnold finger fucked him several times, rough quick thrusts inside, as he poured the lube over the head of his hardening cock. When his cock was coated, Arnold tenderly stretched out his fingers, flexing them inside Timmy. 

Easy as he was, Timmy wasn't loose, and Arnold felt the tight warmth of his hole crushing down on his fingers. Arnold gently scissored his fingers, slowly bringing Timmy's sounds from a frantic gasp down to a low drawn out moan, something deep inside him, wet and tight like his hole. Timmy couldn't stop moaning as those slick fingers slowly spread him open, sinking deeper and deeper, until Arnold touched his prostate. At once, Timmy's whole body tightened again, his head jerked back, and he cried out 'there' in a desperate voice. 

Arnold jerked his fingers out and yanked Timmy's fat ass down onto his monster cock. Lubed as his dick was and prepped as the twink was, Timmy still let out a scream as Arnold pushed his huge cock inside, spreading him wider and wider, pushing deeper and deeper. He wasn't gentle. He didn't ease him down. Instead, Arnold dug his fingers into Timmy's soft hips and jerked them up and down, thrusting deliriously into that warm tight hole, over and over. Timmy gasped and squealed and squirmed, bucking in his lap as his ass was fucked. Such precious slutty sounds and such a soft fat twink. Arnold could hardly stand it as he thrust harder and harder into that greedy ass. 

Each and every thrust slammed into his prostate and brought a wave of sheer ecstasy over Timmy's body, growing warmer and hotter and burning through his mind until all Timmy could think was yes, fuck yes. His heart pulsed and jolted inside his chest as his body was jerked up and down that massive shaft, until the large head crushed against his prostate and he screamed. Timmy's mind went white as an electric orgasm exploded over his body, making him twist and straighten his legs and curl his toes and come with an impressive arch of cum. 

Watching Timmy cum so spectacularly was too much for Arnold. He grit his teeth as he thrust one last time as deep as he could inside Timmy's fat ass, and came with another large, thick load. 

With a groan, Arnold slumped back against the couch, his hands still firmly planted on Timmy's hips. Timmy gasped and panted in his lap, bent double. They panted for several minutes, sweat dripping down their flushed skin, neither of them moving. Then, slowly, Arnold rubbed his hands in small circles over Timmy's hips. 

Breathlessly, Arnold said, "I didn't mean to come inside."

"It's cool, dude."

Arnold rubbed his hands up Timmy's hips, over his soft sides, and down again. When he cupped Timmy's ass, he carefully eased Timmy up the flaccid length of his spent cock. Timmy weakly stood on his feet, struggling to find his footing with his legs feeling like jello. As soon as Arnold's cock was out, Timmy collapsed back down into Arnold's lap, his back smacking into Arnold's chest. Arnold let out a surprised laugh, but held onto Timmy. 

For a few exhausted minutes, the two just slumped back together, enjoying the lingering pleasure in their bodies. Then, letting out a low groan, Timmy heaved himself out of Arnold's lap and laid across the couch, his legs slung over Arnold's lap, a chubby arm covering his eyes. His ass was already starting to ache, and while it was an ache he thoroughly enjoyed, it was still an ache. Timmy moaned and stretched, before he just laid there, breathing slowly and grinning.   
  
Arnold sat beside him, his head resting on the back of the couch, his hands happily making room for Timmy's legs when Timmy laid down. He enjoyed the sight of Timmy's chubby body, spent and wet and quivering on his cushions, not knowing how long Timmy was going to stay splayed and spent. 

Another minute later, Timmy lazily teased, "So, you like fatties, huh? Weirdo."

"I guess so. Fat twinks, anyways," Arnold said, shrugging, "Dunno. It just makes you extra lewd somehow." 

"Yeah? And you like me extra lewd?" 

"Looks like it." 

Timmy laughed out loud, shaking his head underneath his arm. Arnold smiled down at his knees, before he reached to the side and picked up the open bottle of lube. He capped the bottle and put it back in it's cubby hole. Then, he gathered up his weed supplies from a separate cubby hole. Arnold rolled another fat blunt while Timmy rested next to him. They shared the blunt, and another one, as Timmy continued to lay on the couch, Arnold's thick cum oozing out of his ass and puddling beneath his fat ass. Neither of them said anything about it as Arnold watched and Timmy enjoyed being watched, both exhaling smoke and chuckles. 

By the time Timmy walked out of the boarding house, the sun had set. His backpack was stuffed full of weed and his cum stained shorts, and the hoodie he'd accidentally cum across. He was wearing a pair of Arnold's shorts and an oversized sweater over his tank top, all of which was snug and tight across his gamer gut and thunder thighs. He trembled slightly, face red and skin sweaty, as he climbed into the back of the cab Arnold had called for him. When he sat down, he jolted from the sudden pain in his ass. He had to take several long breaths as he eased into place and buckled up. Then, blushing, he looked out the window and raised his hand to wave.

Arnold stood on the stoop of the building, wearing loose jeans and an unbuttoned plaid shirt. He was clearly stoned out of his mind, with half lidded eyes and a stupid grin on his face. When Timmy waved, Arnold waved back happily. Arnold then made the hand signal for 'call me' and Timmy gave him a weak thumbs up. Then, the cab peeled away from the curb and Timmy slumped against the cushions. 

His entire body ached, but he couldn't stop smiling. It wasn't every day that he got fucked six times by a massive cock, though. It wasn't every day, but it sure was today. Today, he'd been absolutely wrecked and Timmy couldn't fucking be happier.

He couldn't wait to pick up weed next time. Seeing his dealer had just gotten a fuck ton funner.

Fin.


End file.
